Ume Toka Wapi?

In Swahili, it means: where are you from?

I get asked this question daily, understandably so as I very clearly stand out as a foreigner in this land.  And for the past few days, although my outward response has been the same, Nime toka Marekani, my internal feelings as I claim to be an American have changed.

Or maybe a better way to put it is that I have been forcefully and unforgettably reminded of how unjust, unsafe and infuriating life in America is for people of color.  Maybe because I am currently living in a country where everyone is an absolutely beautiful shade of brown, it is hitting me differently this time.

Even before the murder of Alton Sterling and the murder of Philando Castile and the killing of the five police officers in Dallas, I have never enjoyed the exchange that follows after I share that I was born in America. It often goes something like this (translated into English J):

New Tanzanian friend: Where are you from?

Me: I am from America.

New Tanzanian friend: America! Wow! America is so great.

Me: Yes, there are many great things about America – just like there are many great things about Tanzania.

New Tanzanian friend: Tanzania?  No, no, no.  America is so much better.

Me: Ahhhhh, America isn’t always so great.  It has problems just like every other country.

New Tanzanian friend: Noooooo. In America, people are rich.  In America, people have lots of things – nice car, nice house, nice clothes.

Me: Some people in America do have nice things, but not everyone.  There are poor people in America, just like here.  And, in America, not everyone is friendly and helpful.  People are not as kind and joyful as people here in Tanzania.  People are not as happy. 

New Tanzanian friend: No way.  Get out of here….

You get the picture.  I can’t think of how many times that I have had this same conversation with a new acquaintance.  And, in all honesty, I don’t think I’ve convinced even one person that America isn’t all glitz and glamour, that the media only shows outsiders what it wants others to see and hides a great deal of the truth.  Even my closest friends, Teddy and Inno, who have been subjected to endlessssss conversations about the shortcomings of the land of the ‘free’ are still overwhelmingly in love with the idea of America.

Now, let me not appear as though that I am not thankful for my American privilege. I am deeply grateful for being born in a country where my citizenship allows me to travel to any country that I want and affords me many other privileges throughout the world.  Not that I earned nor deserve this privilege, but since I have it, I do my absolute best to be conscious of it and to not take it for granted.

But, I wish I could help people here see that in many ways, people in Tanzania are much more fortunate than those of us that live in America.  People here are honestly happier – often, with much less (material things) than those of us in the States.  People care about one another and know what it means to be an active, contributing member of society.  People actually talk to one another – not email, not text – but sit down together, without any electronics, and build meaningful relationships.  And people of color here definitely do not have to face the mistreatment, assuming the worst by many police officers and the rest of the reality that is unique to people of color in America.

My heart is heavy.  Venting is not going to change anything, and boy there are a lot of changes that need to be made.

As I have read many reflections in the past few days, the following images really struck me.  They each seem to hold a key piece to the puzzle of how we begin to rethink how we think, how we act, how communicate a need for change, how we make that change ACTUALLY happen so our children will grow up in a different, better, juster, safer, more compassionate world:

It is one month until I return home, and I will happily spend this month here in Tanzania.  My absence from America does not make the atrocities that are occurring any less horrific, but I welcome the (safe) distance from the events.  And, I am not naïve enough to think that anything will be ‘solved’ by the time I come home next month.  I do pledge, however, to make conscious decisions with my words and actions upon my return to American soil to intentionally and unapologetically be a part of the beginning of a solution to America’s broken state.